


I Charge Interest

by Starshifter (blueiaf)



Series: No Force, Just Credits [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Background Character Death, M/M, Pre-Slash, bounty hunter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueiaf/pseuds/Starshifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bane. What a lovely surprise.” Obi-wan strode over and flopped down in the seat across from him, waving the other bounty hunter’s current tablemate off. The rodian was quick to scurry away. “You owe me a drink that isn’t drugged this time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Charge Interest

**Author's Note:**

> Random snippet from a bigger series I'm working on. Who knows when the actual thing will be ready for posting (certainly not me)

“Look, Kenobi,” Krandle said as he cowered in the back of his cantina booth, his hands held up in front of him to show he wasn’t armed. “Let’s just talk it out, yeah? I swear, I will have your money by tomorrow at the very latest.”

Obi-wan’s blaster didn’t waver from where it pointed directly at the scum of a gambler. “I charge interest on late payments.”

Krandle let out a huff of relief and his hands lowered slightly. “Yeah, sure, I can do interest. How much we talkin’ ‘bout?”

Obi-wan shot him between the eyes. The human’s body slumped forward and hit the table with an audible thump.

“About that much.” 

Tucking his blaster back into its thigh holster, Obi-wan turned and started for the bar. He needed a long drink after the day he’d had tracking that two-timer down. 

“Ya know, if ya shoot dhem before dhey pay you, you don’ get nothin’ from dhem,” a voice thick with mechanical reverb called from several tables down. It was unwelcomingly familiar. 

“Bane. What a lovely surprise.” Obi-wan strode over and flopped down in the seat across from him, waving the other bounty hunter’s current tablemate off. The rodian was quick to scurry away. “You owe me a drink that isn’t drugged this time.”

Bane snorted and flagged a serving droid down before placing the order. Obi-wan carefully watched the exchange, but didn’t catch any signs of covert communication. That didn’t mean much, of course. They could have already worked out a system of communication, like certain drinks should always have a surprise slipped in, but droids were less bribable than living creatures and therefore unlikely to agree to such things. 

“And I’m sure I’ll get more selling him and all he still owns off to the loansharks. There’s been a price on his head for months now.” Bane’s brow arched and Obi-wan added, “He had a bit of a gambling problem.”

“And you’ve gotta problem wid askin’ too many questions. 

“Information is it’s own currency.”

“Currency stacked against ya. How many times’ve ya had ta fight off bongos again?” 

“And yet here I am, talking with you. I can’t be going that wrong.”

The serving droid came back with a pair of drinks and Obi-wan toasted his towards Bane in silent thanks before pretending to take a sip. He licked the residue off his lips and let it linger on his tongue. It didn’t taste off at least.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me if you were hired to kill me? Or should I take this to be the happy coincidence it is?”

“Don’ flatter ya’self. I got better dhing’s ta do dhan small fry jobs like dhat.”

A bad tempered response. Obi-wan relaxed and took a real sip of his drink, letting it burn its way down his throat. Bane’s job here must have fallen through. Perhaps he’d chased off the prospective employer with his impromptu murder. Though, if that Rodian was the employer, Bane must have already wanted out of it; he wouldn’t have called Obi-wan’s over otherwise. Annoyance crashed over him. He wasn’t here to be used as one of Bane’s intimidation tactics. 

“Like sitting around in a cantina getting drunk? Yes, I can see how you’ll get paid loads for that. Who wouldn’t want to see a big name bounty hunter tripping all over himself in a drunken haze? Maybe if you’re lucky someone will finally shoot you in the head. It’d be less painful than the hangover.” 

“Who slimed in yer porridge, Kenobi?”

Obi-wan knocked back the rest of his glass and slammed it down on the table. “Thanks for the drink.” He stalked over to Krandle’s corpse, elbowing the cantina workers who were in the process of removing it out of the way, and slung it over his shoulder before taking his leave. He had a bounty to collect.


End file.
